


Something with Feeling

by orphan_account



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22248709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Part of the OC Christmas Challenge on Discord.
Relationships: Johnny Lawrence/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Something with Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLadyDisdain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyDisdain/gifts).

** KATE **

"And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good."

—John Steinbeck, _East of Eden_

Perfectionist. Type A. Meticulous.  She'd heard it all being a woman, driven by a prestigious law degree and her own sensei of passion, and frankly, in times like this, she'd be inclined to agree. 

It's Christmas, a holiday season that can be wonderfully chaotic in all its trials and tribulations, the grand mall decorations simultaneously ease and fester the immense stress of gift shopping. It felt like a lot of pressure for seemingly no reason; it doesn't intrinsically make sense to worry so much over a loved one's gift. 

However, logical sense has frequently taken a backseat to emotion. 

She did not look the part of composed girlfriend shopping thoughtfully for a gift, no, she looked more like someone storming up to a late shift at work. Her legs working in the hurried strides of someone who had to be there twenty-odd minutes ago just to be reasonably on time. There was no reason to rush either, but that didn’t at all hinder her movements. 

This was a very bad idea to do the day before Christmas Eve; perhaps one of her worst ideas yet. 

She certainly had an idea of what to get, that concept wasn’t the problem, it was simply finding the store and locating the item among the seemingly hundreds of other procrastinators who’d come to Westfield Topanga. 

“Ugh, excuse me, please…” She feels rude to shove someone, but it’s coming close as she pointedly addresses the clearly oblivious women in the middle of the already-narrowed hall, who is apparently trying to wrangle her two little girls into leaving a Disney store. 

It’s a few more steps ahead before she finally spots it, the store she’s come here for in the first place, the one that they’d wandered into once, and she remembers so clearly, the exact coat he’d looked upon with such curiosity. 

_ “That’d look nice on you.”  _

_ He turned towards her, probably caught slightly off guard by her sudden presence since she’d left him momentarily to peek at the women's section.  _

_ She felt the sleeve, a soft, supple leather. “Try it on.” _

_ He seemed to blanch slightly at the price tag, running it once through his index and middle finger. “Way too much,” He’d said plainly. “It’s three-quarters of my rent, I couldn’t blow that on this.”  _

_ In some small ways, she felt pleased at Johnny’s line of thought. She’d remembered the modifications he’d done to his car when she’d first was getting to know him, how money was a thing that was saved not out of self-restraint but as a necessity, one that had faded once Cobra Kai had gotten wind around town and fresh faces kept trickling in steadily.  _

_ Since then though, a few bad habits had up and left, and with that came a new sense of responsibility for himself, financial matters being one of them. Besides a few apartment upgrades and a few (in her opinion, fully necessary) updates to his wardrobe, he didn’t spend much.  _

_ “I don’t need it.”  _

_ And with that he'd left it hanging on the rack, tugging Kate’s hand gently towards the exit, but not before she had time to mentally take note, saving that particular event as one that could prove most thoughtful. _

When she finds his size, she’s thrilled. A tiny spark of accomplishment that doesn’t fade, even with the hefty price tag that she knows he will still balk at, she feels the tiniest bit proud as she carries the bag to her car, the crisp December air all the more welcoming from the crowds inside. 

She figures he deserves something nice, something to feel good in. He deserves to have what he wants, no strings attached. 

She still feels happy as she wraps it up, the box adorned with a card, curled ribbons and a deep green, glittering bow. She slips it under the tree and feels giddy at the prospect of a gift that is both tastefully special and thoughtful. She remembers a phone call to Bobby the week prior when she was still trying to figure out what she could get him that he would actually enjoy and use, without feeling obligated under the pretense of a gift. 

_ “Do you think he’d like something from a spa--” _

_ “Uh, we’re talking about the same Johnny who still refuses to ask for directions, if that Johnny would step foot in a spa?” _

_ “I meant something like a massage, I’m not suggesting he take himself for a manicure.” _

_ He sounded uncertain still. “I don’t know, Kate.” _

_ “What about a nice dinner somewhere, or, is there any particular brands he likes, clothes-wise? He told me you guys used to be the best-dressed boys in school, he must have some preferences to what he drapes himself in.” _

_ Bobby laughed, a nostalgic fondness to his voice. “I mean we were, don’t me wrong, but I think his priorities are a little different now. Besides, you know him, money isn't something he likes to flaunt so much, I mean like, it’s not really important anymore, you know?” _

_ She did know. He spent his entire teenage years trading in paternal love for material goods, filling a hole where none should have existed in the first place, if only Sid wasn’t such a lazy, selfish-- _

_ “Kate?” _

_ Bobby was still speaking to her, she realized. “Yes sorry, I’m here.” She looked up, tiny specs of colourful string lights lining the tree she’d spent two hours decorating just right. “Just… thinking.” _

_ “I think you’re worrying too much about this. Johnny’s a pretty simple guy, He likes sentimental, something with feeling, you know what I’m saying?” _

_ Something with feeling.  _

The thought nagged at her a little as she went about the grocery store, trying to find last-minute ideas for their little Christmas Eve get together with Robby, a small, comfy celebration in the comfort of Johnny’s living room. Juts how he told her he preferred it. Johnny wasn’t one for large groups, she’d come to notice.

A recipe for a herb-cheese ball is stuffed in her pocket as he turns down the dairy aisle, seeking out the three types of cheese it required. The store wasn’t as busy as the mall tank god, and Kate had time and space to stand unrushed, and think. Absentmindedly she grabbed the few items on her checklist, making a quick detour to other parts of the store, wondering if anything more would catch her eye for tasty  _ Hors d'oeuvres  _ and less than complex desserts. Skimming the aisles, she remembers that she is in need of something else, namely scotch tape. She’d used much of it decorating her living room and wrapping gifts.

The aisle is clear in front of her, and in a moment she feels a silly urge. With no hesitation she sets one foot set atop the cart’s lower rung, and with one still behind her, she pushes with her toes, gliding freely down the space absent of hurried shoppers. A quick zoom past one, two, then three aisles down, but the thing she needs is accidentally skipped over. She comes to a halt, now situated by picture frames with their partner hooks, and something catches her eye. 

Again, she is reminded of Bobby’s words. 

_ “Something with feeling, you know?” _

Something with heart, something with thought. Something that didn’t necessitate a price tag to match the ambition of her own love for him. That wasn’t the point, perhaps. 

She stares at it, a deep espresso wood in horizontal and vertical rectangular frames, their shape resembling typical photos. A good home to the few she knew he had strewn loosely around in his mother’s albums. 

She reaches out, and plucks it from the shelf. 

** JOHNNY  **

"Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering."

—Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

Christmas Eve was a promised time to Johnny, getting a decent chunk of time with Robby before he would depart to his own apartment, still shared with Shannon and technically still his legal dwelling. He visited more often though, and that was enough for the time being, at least not having to fight with Shannon about their son’s living arrangements anymore. 

The evening was spent unhurried and mostly calm, with the slow tick of the clock lulling both Robby and Rani to sleep by eleven, leaving Johnny and Kate to their own devices in the living room. Johnny, sprawled drowsily on the sofa while Kate opted to clean a few dishes left in the kitchen sink, the soft tinging of porcelain and running water only slightly audible above the TV. 

Johnny’s eyes were slightly heavy, a day made up of near-constant moving, activities and the odd phone call from friends, by the time it was nearing midnight he was a little burned out. 

Kate pops into his periphery, and the momentary tiredness takes a backseat to her smile.

“Psst,” She says, low. “You’re not falling asleep on me, are you? I’ve got a surprise.”

Johnny’s interest piques. “Do you?” 

“Mhmm. Why don’t we make some hot chocolate, and stay up a little more?” 

That implication puts Johnny’s brain into action. Who is to deny a voice like that? Tiredness be damned, a little late-night alone time with their hot chocolate that, if Johnny has it his way, will be spiked with more than just marshmallows, sounds like heaven. 

“Mh-nm babe,” He shook his head, voice breathy without really meaning it. “‘M awake.”

He goes to kiss her, leaning forwards and sliding a hand upwards to cup her shoulders until he feels one of hers press against the side of his face, still warm from the dishes and slightly wet against his cheek. Before his fingers can wander further down however, a shiny-wrapped box is shoved into his still-open palm, fingers gripping the edge of the neatly wrapped box and feeling it’s weight tug at his wrist. 

“I thought I would give you this a little early.” 

Maybe she remembered what he’d told her a while back. He wouldn’t be surprised. 

When he was a kid, one gift of his choosing would get to be unwrapped before morning. He’d sit with his mother and they would exchange little gifts in the twilight hours just before midnight. Curiously Johnny glanced at the clock, reading 11:36. He, of course, made one up for her too. 

Scooting from the couch, he reached under the tree and retrieved the red box containing her predetermined gift, and placed it in her empty hands. 

He looks down at his, playfully shaking it a tad, feeling the weight displaced with his movements. The sounds of tearing wrapping paper indicate she’s already ahead of him, choosing to look inside rather than play gift detective. 

He looks at her for a few moments as she tears the paper away, revealing a box full of those fizzy bath thingies she’s spent some time smelling in their previous trip to the mall. 

He hopes he picked the right scents. After all that choosing, he had started to get a headache from the plethora of smells and just hoped that she didn’t outright hate any of them. 

“Ou-uh,” Kate’s excitement reaches his ears through her voice and reflects even further in her eyes, and his satisfaction in seeing her smile produced a rather dopey one from him, all wide and slightly blushing.  “Oh Johnny, thank you…” 

She delicately sniffs the box, and he suddenly remembers the one in his hands, still untouched. He slides his finger under the folds in the sides, unlatching the tape from the dressing, confusion a momentary flood up until he rips the rest of the paper from the edges, familiar faces peek up at him, their reflective surfaces all encased in dark wood. 

It’s a series of photos, a picture frame that holds eight or so, all their own but connected by the lines of wood that comprise one fairly large collage.  Familiar, old faces encircle four new ones, a recent one that had escaped his scope of memory, until now. 

Johnny looks to Kate, then the frame, then to Kate again.  His mouth opens, but he's struggling to be properly verbal. 

Kate shrugs. "Something extra," She glances towards that picture of the girls in swimsuits, still on his kitchen wall. She had expressed her distaste in that many times before. "To decorate.” She grins, a half-serious weight in her words. “You certainly have something much better to put up on these walls, now.”  She looks to the frame still clutched in his hands. “I hope you don’t mind... I used a few of Laura’s pictures, they didn’t have any place in the albums, they were just loose, so I figured…” She trails off, eyes flicking back to his face, somewhat expectant.  “Do you _like_ it?”

Johnny’s quick to shake himself out of it, words coming out ardently. “Of course I do.” 

There's a watery undertone in his voice, and he hopes that Kate, as perceptive as she is, chooses to see through why he can’t look at her just then. 

He feels dumb, like he should be at least able to thank her properly. He’s no wordsmith, he knows it. Both of them tend to find equal ground in how awkward an emotional expression can be, but for Johnny, it's a little too much all at once, and he can’t really put his finger on it. 

She squeezes his hand. “I’m glad you like it… I wanted to get you something special.”

Untangling their fingers, she gets up to turn on the kettle for their hot chocolate, and Johnny lets his eyes roam over the photos more carefully, and the largest one, right in the middle brings an abundance of fluttery-like sensations in his chest. 

It's a photo with Rani and Kate, him and Robby, and they're all squished into frame. Kate looks charming, as wonderful as she always does with her dark eyes shaped into crescent moons as she smiles, bright and beautiful. She looks so young in comparison to him, but in the best way, like aspiration embodied. On the other hand, in a rather shallow sense, shallowest sense, the photo is not the most flattering of him. His hair looks a little dull and the lines in the corners of his eyes are looking a tad deep for his taste, but there's a discernible joy that the picture brings, seeing the four of them like that. Robby's got his hair half on Rani's head, her tiny, darker face held tightly against his in a childishly-adorable smush. Like any little sister to her older brother. 

He remembers the few times he could pick out, where one or two of Robby's ticks, his words or syntax, would come tumbling out of her mouth. He remembers tiny snippets of conversations between him and Kate that seemed casually domestic, something that he can't remember last he'd had it. Maybe, up until now, he'd never had it. 

The idea seems a little stupid, maybe. Too emotionally-driven, perhaps even irrational, but he couldn't seem to help it. It was like watching a plant bloom from seed; you always knew it was there, the event of growth was promised with the right care and attention, but you still could always doubt it happening until you saw it pop right through the dirt. 

The flower is blooming before Johnny's eyes, maybe a little quicker than he thought. 

Again, he repeats it, watching Kate gather up the torn paper from the floor around them balling it up into condensed, crinkling heaps. 

"Really, thank you." He pauses for a second. "I love it." 

She’s standing as he still kneels, her slight frame seeming bigger. A smile pushes against her cheeks as she mirrors his joy. She haunches down, and they’re face to face again. He doesn’t avoid her eyes this time. Her hand slides to his hair, carding through his hair in the way she knows to soothe him best.

“Good… I’m glad you like it.”

As he said, both of them no poet with emotion. His thoughts played out much louder, much broader than what usually came forth audibly. He was getting better though, with her help. Like many things in his life, she helps propel him forwards. 

He realizes he’s finally getting to a point where feelings aren't going to hurt him anymore, and where they have a place to be discussed, to be said aloud. 

For the longest time, the need for something to call out to him, to show him that this wasn't just a fleeting situation, seemed like a ludicrous desire for him to hold onto. Kate wasn't in it for any other reason other than the obvious. She wasn't waiting for something better or because a child was linking the two of them. Their children were their own, one by blood and one by plane, there wasn't that degree of separation that prevented the bridging of Robby and Rani, of him and Kate. The feeling like it wasn't quite enough, crossed his mind from time to time, but the picture, in all its silliness, is erased the thought almost immediately.

He feels relieved, and allows himself the comfort of sinking into her hug, all huddled up on the floor with her, their kids busy sleeping one room away. 

What would he do exactly, had she not come along?

For a while, they sit. His thoughts are still coming loudly, somewhat urgently, but he didn’t stop himself this time.  He slides a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so she’s looking right at him.

She looks curious, voice just above a whisper. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, you wanna go to bed?” 

He shakes his head, eyes still roaming over her face.

The corners of her mouth perk up; a gentle, pensive smile. “What is it?” 

“This feels nice…” He pauses, collecting thoughts scrambling around inside his head, trying to catch hold of what was legible. “I’m really happy I met you.”   


Her hand slides into his again, fingers squeezing around his in a firm, reassuring grip. S he smiles up at him, her eyes reflecting the lights as she blinks back the glassiness welling up in them. Maybe her tongue is busy tied up with her thoughts too, but there’s a comfort in their exchanges; a warmth to all the little things that come with intimacy. 

“I’d like to think that fate is a far less silly concept whenever I think of how we met,” She licks her lips like she’s pulling the sudden dryness from her mouth. “Like it just fell into place one day.” 

And Johnny thinks of dominoes, all the misfortunes coming into something that ultimately, turned it around tenfold. 

“Lucky me.” He says, leaning down to kiss her, and hopes all he wants to say to her right then makes it through clearly. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, late entry. Sorry about that, I hope you like it. I hope it wasn't too cheesy, and I didn't completely butcher anything, nor your wonderful character :x I hope all is okay. Thank you very much for letting mw rite your wonderfully-crafted girl. I hope I did her an inkling of justice.


End file.
